


Still As Night

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Post-Canon, Romance, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-27
Updated: 2010-06-27
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8745079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Dreams aren't the only things to fear.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Disclaimer: I own nothing.

  
Author's notes: I have no real set timeframe for this, but it just came to me and I had to write it.  


* * *

Sam jerked awake, pulling himself upright as he wakened from his dreams. Flashes of Fire, blood, and pain still haunting him every time he’s forced to try and let himself rest for a few hours. The clock on the wall ticking is the only thing he can hear other then his laboured breathing. 

 

Not so long ago he’d have had someone beside him, their weight making the bed dip as they checked he was okay. While putting on a front by moaning at how he keeps waking them up at three, twenty-four in the morning. And he’d apologize all the while knowing that the front was merely a facade to hide the worry and fear from him.

 

He looked around the empty room, before getting out of bed, dressing himself and heading downstairs, unable to keep his gaze away from the figure that constantly seemed to follow him. He opened the front door grabbing his coat, his set of keys constantly in the left pocket; he gripped them as he made the way to the car. 

 

Slipping in to the driver’s seat and starting the engine, ignoring the fact that when the radio first sprung to life a moment ago there was barely any sound coming from it, now it had switched to a rock station, blaring a classic ACDC song. Some people would consider it had just needed a moment to click on but Sam knew that that no matter how many times he had changed the channel it always switched on to the nearest rock station, a reminder of who this car belonged to.

 

He drove to his destination, turning off the engine as he reached at the cemetery and stepping out of the car; it was odd how being here always unnerved him, even though he’d been in countless others, though there was one difference to this one. He made his way round, opening the trunk of the car and getting out the item he needed.

 

He made his way further in to the cemetery, stopping as he reached the graveside; he bent, drawing a symbol of protection in to the stone. It was his nightly occurrence, to redraw this symbol to protect a final resting place because it was all that he had left.

 

He stared at the name on the gravestone for a moment knowing how if it was anyone else he’d of dug up the earth and watched the flames flicker as the remains burned, but there was always an exception to the rule. He dismissed the idea of what was right and made his way back to the car. 

 

He sat back in it, turning the key and hearing the familiar hum of the engine. Focusing to keep his eyes on the road and not letting himself be distracted by who was sitting in the passenger seat.

 

He shut off the engine as he came back to the house. Closing and locking the car door before he went back inside, making his way upstairs, undressing by his bed and slipping back under the blankets, closing his eyes even though he knows there is no escape from the feel of those eyes on him. His protector even in death.

 

Sam swallowed let out a whisper. “Goodnight Dean.” Having to hold back tears as he heard.

 

“Night, Sammy.”


End file.
